#op: wizard0rb

[a-captions-blog]

[Comic description: The characters Toriel and Comic Sans from Undertale talk on opposites sides of a closed door. Long descriptions follow.

Sans starts by saying, ‘so there are these two siblings – a five year old and a seven year old. one day they wake up and the 7 year old decides they’re old enough to swear. the 5 year old agrees. So they go downstairs to eat breakfast, and the 5 year old asks their parents for “some god damn cereal,” and he gets grounded on the spot.’ then the parents ask the 7 year old what they want for breakfast, to which they reply, “i dont know, but definitely not fucking cereal.”’ As he speaks, Toriel’s expression grows surprised, and at the last part, she turns around to bang on the door and says, ‘Hey! Language.’ Each character is shown leaning on their side of the door as they sit on the ground. Sans says, ‘you sound like someone’s mom. k i got another one.’ Toriel says, ‘You think that I sound like someone’s mother?’ Sans says, ‘uh, no offense?’ Toriel says, ‘No, no I am not offended.’ Toriel looks at a photo of two children. Sans asks, ‘you good?’ Toriel says, ‘Yes, I apologize. I am just not very awake today.’ Sans says, ‘nah, i get it. work got you down?’ Toriel says, ‘No, that is not the reason. Life has just been . . . getting to me a little bit lately.’ She is shown sitting under a beam of light. ‘It has been making me tired.’ Sans sits with his head down in a wooden market stall. He says, ‘i’m sorry to hear that.’ Toriel says, ‘Ah ,but that is neither here nor there. While I think of another one, tell me how you are doing! How is your ever-mysterious “personal project” coming along?’ Sans says, ‘actually, i kinda stopped working on that’ Toriel says, ‘Oh.’ Sans says, ‘yeah.’ Toriel asks, ‘Did you stop enjoying it?’ Sans looks at a photo showing three silhouettes. Toriel is shown cleaning various parts of her house. Sans says, ‘honestly, it was more of an undertaking than i initially bargained for. i got a job to sleep on, ya know. and I mean, it was the kinda thing you do more out of . . . obligation rather than enjoyment.’ Toriel asks, ‘Obligation like . . . guilt?’ Sans says, ‘uh . . . yeah, i guess.’ Toriel says, ‘I apologize. I think I know how you feel, is all. . . . I am very sorry about your project.’ A long strip of silence from both sides. Then words appear as Toriel asks, ‘Are you still there?’ Sans says, ‘yeah.’ Toriel asks, ‘What did the king think of his new sofa?’ Sans asks, ‘huh? oh, uh, what.’ Toriel beams as she says, ‘The thought it was “sofa-king” (so fucking) comfortable!’ She grins on her side as Sans grimaces from the pun. Sans buries his face in his hands and laughs, saying, ‘Ha! Hahahaha wow, didn’t know you had it in you.’ Toriel says, ‘I am glad you enjoyed it! Because I am never going to fucking do that again.’ Sans says, ‘stop’ in all caps. Text by his knees says, ‘the end.’ \End description]

obligations, guilt, and the inherent catharsis of saying fuck

[chaifootsteps]

Saw my first real digital circus critical tweet and the fandom managed not to insult the op or get the showrunner to like their nasty quote mocking the person, but to turn it into something fun

https://x.com/wizard0rb/status/1869108447360524749?s=46

Remember when the pilot episode got a critical video about it and Goose dropped by to take it in stride, accept the criticism, and playfully vow to win them over?

[atlas-the-worldbuilder]

First off, this is a very interesting and well read story, and thank you OP for sharing with us.

Secondly, @wizard0rb hid this in the tags, and I am compelled to ask... what happened with this story?

I had somewhat infrequent contact with the church youth group as a high schooler–I wasn’t a regular attendee, but enough of my friends were that I usually had the lowdown on what was happening. I have a personal policy that I don’t turn down invitations to participate in things unless I have an actual conflict (which is, let me tell you, an interesting, rewarding, and occasionally dangerous way to live your life) so when one of my friends said, “Hey, Hell, the youth group is doing a volunteer project and we need people. You in?” I said sure.

She told me to dress for messy outdoor work, and we’d drive there together on Saturday morning. No other details were provided.

So Saturday morning came, and I found myself standing in jeans, steeltoe boots and a tank top in front of a very, very run-down house with about a dozen other teenagers and a couple adults. The adults had that slightly manic look common to youth group leaders, and matching church t-shirts. 

They also had half a dozen sledgehammers.

I had a fantastic feeling about how this day was going to go. 

The house, they explained, was condemned. It needed to be demolished. 

There were words after that about the who and the what and the why (and, presumably, about why they had decided to recruit a bunch of teenagers to do this In The Name Of Jesus) but I was vibrating at a speed that rendered audio waves impossible to decipher and didn’t catch any of it. Something-something-something-jesus, something-something-something-hit things with sledgehammers, don’t hit the marked support beams,  Something-something-something-HELL YOU GET TO WRECK THIS HOUSE was basically all that got through.

They said something that my brain interpreted as “GO!” 

I had a sledgehammer in my hand and was swinging through the front door faster than a chipmunk on cocaine. Which was wholly unnecessary; the front door was unlocked. I just wanted to do it. 

I plowed a straight line through that house from front door through the back wall just because I could, then doubled back to go for some of the fun tile spots. Around me, a dozen sweaty teenagers were going absolutely feral. The ones with sledgehammers were swinging wildly at anything they could reach, and the ones without were kicking holes in the drywall for no reason and prying apart any surface they could get a grip on.  

The adults had cleared out about five minutes in; we were left with our sledgehammers and no inhibitions.

 These wholesome christian teens had spent most of their lives being proper and helpful, and now, for what may have been the first time, they were being told to be as destructive as they were capable of being, and it immediately went to their heads. We were a swarm of holy termites. We were sledgehammer-bearing tornadoes. We punched holes in that house until there wasn’t any house left to punch holes in.

Did we take out some of the marked support beams on accident? Absolutely. Was this whole plan deeply, deeply unwise? Sure! But we were having a great time!

The teens with sledgehammers mostly got tired and traded off sooner or later, and a couple of us decided that now was the time to solve some universal mysteries for ourselves, like: can I run straight through a wall if I get a far enough running start? Can I kick a door down like in a movie? If we work together, can we throw John right through that drywall?

The answers to these questions was a shining, reverberating YES.

(John was fine, probably.)

By the time we felt that our work was done, the house was just a few upright studs with a roof on top, sitting in a lake of debris. We straggled out on to the front lawn, dragging our sledgehammers, and watched as the adults hooked chains to the remaining beams. The chains were hooked to the back hitch of someone’s Compensator pickup truck, which was being used for its actual function for probably the first time ever. We watched as the truck pulled away from the curb, the chains going tight–

–and with a sound like breaking toothpicks, the beams broke, and the house pancaked in on itself.  We cheered like it was the Second Coming. 

I don’t know why they had us do this. I don’t even know whose house it was. I just know that there are few joys purer than the joy of wrecking something bigger than you with nothing but the strength of your own arms, and few euphorias more glorious than the feeling of putting a sledgehammer through a front door for no reason at all.

[decembersylph]

I think the commenters giving OP a hard time over something so trivial as Mario bros ass equality have enough ass to give Luigi one that’s larger than Mario’s with how big of an ass they’re being to someone that has a life and priorities that don’t include pandering to people’s weird trivial shit.

@wizard0rb You do you, OP. That’s an amazing redraw, and I wish I could print it out as a poster because damn, that would be an awesome Mario series merch to have! Keep being awesome and don’t let people get under your skin with their weird non-priorities.

holy shit i can draw whatever i want. like ANYTHING. crazy